


Tether to the World

by oddgit



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Science, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harold getting fixed, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Surgery, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddgit/pseuds/oddgit
Summary: John took Harold’s hand and brought it to his lips, “Harold…” He started, “have you ever thought about… you know… seeing if they can fix your neck or back?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



> For Sky!  
> A while back they commented on one of my shorter fluffy fics, "I'd be very interested to read more of how their journey towards helping Harold live with less pain goes."  
> So here's my attempt! I've been working on it for a while now and just figured I'd post the beginning. Forgive me for posting it in chapters but it's almost done! Haha 
> 
> Special thanks to M_E_Lover for all the beta'ing and support!!

John belly flopped onto the bed next to his partner.

“Must you do that?” Harold asked, putting his book down onto the bedside table.

“You love it and you know it…” Reese chuckled, leaned over, and pressed his lips to the older man’s. Harold grimaced when he stretched his neck too far. “Sorry…” John frowned, “you okay?”

“Yes…” Harold took a deep breath and smiled, “now, where were we?” He leaned in and pulled John into another kiss.

#

Harold lay curled up against John’s side. They were both coming down from the ecstasy of a late night roll in the hay. Harold had his hand on John’s chest. His palm over his heart. He always felt comforted when he could feel it beating… feel the blood coursing through John’s veins beneath his fingers.

John took Harold’s hand and brought it to his lips, “Harold…” He started, “have you ever thought about… you know… seeing if they can fix your neck or back?”

Harold propped himself up on his elbow and looked to John with his brows raised.

“I mean you’re in pain all the time… I’m sure they’ve come up with something that can help by now…” John smiled sadly, “I just hate seeing you suffer.”

Harold looked like he didn’t know what to say… and then let out a breath. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it… but… the thoughts are mostly fleeting.”

John just gave him a questioned look.

“After the ferry bombing… I felt guilty… it was my fault that all those people died and were injured… it was my fault that Nathan died…” Harold sighed, “I felt like if those people and their loved ones that are left have to suffer… have to deal with the aftermath of the bombing… that I should too.”

John frowned and ran his hand through Harold’s soft bristly hair, “Finch…”

“Scars have a way of reminding you that your past is real…” Harold started… “so does pain.”

John frowned, “Harold if anyone understands how you’re feeling… it’s me. But the way to honor those people…” He smiled, “to honor Nathan… is not living in pain… it’s taking the second chance you were given and living your life to the fullest.”

Harold smiled and pulled his partner to him and kissed him open-mouthed; he pulled back, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” John chuckled and sighed into Harold’s mouth. “Now tomorrow, how about we look into it?” John added.

“Maybe tomorrow John.” Harold pulled John’s lips back to press to his once again. “Now go to sleep,” he teased.

John snuggled in close, “tomorrow Harold… I’ll remind you.”

Soon after, they both fell into a sated slumber intertwined in each other’s arms.

#

John was laying on his stomach on their bed early the next morning. He had Harold’s laptop out and was searching through a variety of studies and clinical trials that had been done to help people with spinal fusion.

He knew Harold was going to be unhappy with him. Hell, he’d probably be mad about it… but John didn’t care… sometimes Harold didn’t know what was good for himself…

But Harold _did_ say they’d talk about it in the morning…

John heard the shower turn off, he quickly pulled up some of the most successful stories from all the extensive research he had done over the last couple of months.

Harold emerged from the bathroom in his dress pants and a white t-shirt. His hair still wet and out of control.  

“What are you doing with my laptop?” Harold asked, a little annoyed. He ran a towel over his hair and then tossed it over the back of the desk chair.

John chuckled, “Did you know that a guy from Boston had his neck mobility increased by almost 50 percent after having this new surgery?”

Harold was in the middle of picking out a suit for the day and his shoulders sagged, “John…” He sighed, “I thought we talked about this…”

“We did…” John got up from the bed, making his way over to his partner, “you said we’d look into it…” He placed his hands gently on Harold’s shoulders, “That’s all I’m doing… looking into it.”

Harold’s head sagged and he let out another sigh, “50 percent?”

John smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to Harold’s cheek, “do you want to look at some of the stuff? Some of it’s pretty impressive…”

“I suppose…” Harold let John lead him back to their bed. He sat down next to his partner who resumed his earlier pose of lying down on the bed on his stomach, surfing through the computer.

“So, what I’ve found so far is that there’s a couple options… The one that seems to work the best is this surgeon in Florida has a clinical trial for people with C-3 through C-7 fusions.” John continued to tell Harold about what the procedure was and what the success rates were.

He even threw in a quote from one of the people who went through the surgery stating that they never thought they’d be able to move their neck without pain again… but the surgery changed everything.

Harold’s level of interest changed dramatically from the beginning to the end of John’s speech.

But it quickly dissipated again once John got to the recovery part. Something of which called for up to a week in the hospital… months of physical therapy and that was if it even worked.

“The success rate is close to 80% Harold.” John continued.

“I see that…” Harold whispered and grabbed the mouse to scroll through some of the research himself. “But who even knows if he’ll take me? I’m not the youngest patient… and my injuries are… severe.” He set down the computer and moved over to the side of the bed.

“He’s done it on a sixty-year-old and a guy who was almost seventy Harold…” John replied. He got up and sat behind his partner. He wrapped his arm around Harold’s chest, “I get it if you’re nervous or even scared… but…”

Harold got up off the bed, “I’m not scared!” He snapped back. He turned his back to John and went to leave the room, “just… leave it alone John…” He opened the door but paused under the doorframe, “Please.”

Harold disappeared out of the room and left John sitting on the bed by himself. Bear came in a couple of seconds later and jumped up onto the bed with his alpha. He nudged his way under John’s hand, “I know… I know… he’s like an onion, you have to peel him back a layer at a time.” John ran his hands through the dog’s fur.

#

Harold limped out into the kitchen; he let out a breath as he got to the counter… he slammed his fists down and his shoulders sagged.

He didn’t know why this was getting to him so much… John was just trying to help.

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. He took a drink with shaky hands and set it down.

Then John was there, setting his strong hands onto his shoulders and his chin on top of Harold’s head, “I’m sorry…” John whispered out.

Harold turned around, “Don’t be… I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“It’s okay,” John replied and planted a kiss to the shorter man’s forehead, “I shouldn’t have just thrown all that stuff at you like that.”

“I truly appreciate what you’re trying to do John… It’s just that it’s a rather… touchy subject…” Harold turned to make his way back into the bedroom but when he turned, he knocked the glass from the counter and it came crashing down to the floor. Something in the loud crashing sound and reverberation that encompassed the room flicked a switch in Harold’s brain.

He stopped in his tracks and his eyes went wide.

Suddenly he was on the dock at the East River Ferry… He looked towards Nathan and he waved to him and greeted him. The relief in his friends face upon seeing Harold there was so apparent it made him smile. Then suddenly he was gone. Within seconds, his best friend disappeared in a flash of blinding light and he would never see him alive again, he was gone forever.

But the images he would never forget to his dying day were after he awoke dazed and hurting and turned just in time to see a sheet pulled over Nathan’s expressionless face. Horrific flashes of Nathan dead and Grace sobbing uncontrollably ran through his memory unbidden as he stood completely still and unconsciously gripped the counter in the kitchen so hard his knuckles turned white.

John moved carefully over to his partner; he could see the pain in his eyes as he relived some trauma from his past. Harold was sweating and shaking, his complexion pale. He put his hand to Harold’s, “Hey…”

“Nathan…!” Harold involuntarily blurted out. His chest felt rigid, tight and he could only get in short, clipped breaths. John kept his hand on Harold’s back, a warm weight between his shoulder blades.

“Harold…?” John's voice ensnared him, reeled him back to the present. He turned to look at John and then he was back in his apartment. He was safe… he was with John.

John put his hand on his arm, “you with me?”

“Yes… I don’t know what happened…” Harold’s eyes closed and he let out a breath, “I’m going out…” He grabbed his hat and opened the front door, “I’ll be back later…”

“Harold…” John called out, “Harold… wait. Let’s just talk about it…”

“There’s nothing to talk about, John.” Finch sounded broken as he shut the door behind him and exited the apartment.

John let out a breath and put his hands over his face, “Damn it, Harold,” he sighed to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harold has titanium in his neck, meaning that he can have MRI's done and not get hurt :D

When John found him, Harold was sitting in Central Park, bird watching. He let him have his space; he took Bear for a walk, washed dishes and cleaned up their closet before he looked up Harold’s GPS location and decided he would go find him.

The sun would be going down soon and he was getting a little worried.

So, he went up to Harold and sat down next to him on the hill he was sitting on. They sat there in mutual silence until Harold spoke up, “Grace has lived the past six years believing her fiancé is dead. Will Ingram is living without a father. Eighty-three people died in that ferry bombing.” Harold let out a breath, “I am the reason for all of that… The pain… I’ve learned to live with it. It’s what tethers me to the world. It’s what I deserve for being responsible for all that… and more.”

John frowned. His eyes were sad and he put his hand on Harold’s knee, “Harold…”  John's voice was achingly soft. He squeezed the older man’s knee.

Harold turned his attention to the younger man.

“You’re the reason so many people are alive. You _built a machine that stops terrorist attacks_ … Yeah, it may have come with some… unbearable consequences. I get that. But… do you know how many people you have saved?”

Harold huffed and rolled his eyes, “a few irrelevants hardly make up for all the wrong doing that I’ve caused over the years.”

“You saved _me_ , Harold,” John replied with a gentleness to him that Harold had seen many times before. “You took the second chance you were given and used it for good. Don’t you think you deserve some form of reprieve?”

Harold tried to hold back the tears that were forming in his eyes. He had never thought about it that way… never realized that he had actually held on to the second chance he was given and tried to _help_ people.

He just thought of it as some form of climbing a ladder… trying to make up for all the wrongs he had let happen. Maybe… just maybe… he was high enough on that ladder now to take the final step.

He took John’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. John’s arm found its way around Harold’s shoulder and tightened, embracing him warmly. “I guess…” Harold let out a shaky breath, “I could try it…” He cleared his throat.

“Okay…”  Reese muttered encouragingly, planting soft kisses on the top of his head. “I’m not going to force you into anything Harold… if you have concerns or questions… just tell me and we’ll forget all about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Harold murmured, lying his head onto John’s shoulder.

#

John woke up in the middle of the night and Harold was nowhere to be found. He rolled over and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He softly padded out into the hallway and made his way towards the kitchen in their hotel suite.

They were in Florida to meet with the surgeon to find out if Harold would be a good candidate for his new technique or not.

He found his partner sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, “everything alright?” John asked as he pulled the carton of milk out of the refrigerator and took a swig.

“Yes. Just… couldn’t sleep.” Harold replied, taking a sip of his sencha. The bags under his eyes told John that he hadn’t been able to sleep for a few days now.

“This have anything to do with your doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning?” John asked as he sat down next to his partner at the table.

Silence flooded the room. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living area.

“Perhaps,” was all Harold offered in a reply.

“Wanna talk about it?” John asked, hoping Harold wasn’t having second thoughts about this whole thing. He had done great with it the past week. He even called the hospital himself to set up an appointment to meet with the doctor.

“I’m not having second thoughts so you can stop thinking that right now,” Harold said coolly. John smirked at his partner. “I don’t know what I’m feeling to tell you the truth…” Harold replied with a soft huff of air.

“Oh…” John replied. He got out of his chair and knelt down next to Harold. He softly set his hand on the older man’s thigh. “Okay.”

#

“Mister Wren?” A nurse called out into the waiting room.

Harold and John stood up and made their way over to her. She smiled to them both, “Hi, you can follow me.” She led them to an exam room down a long hallway.

“Okay, so I’m going to take a few readings and run a couple tests and then someone will be back soon to take you for an MRI. You’ll come back here after that and then the doctor will be in to see you.” She smiled, “you can go ahead and change while I go get a few things.” She said, pointing to the hospital gown on the table.

Harold nodded and smiled to the women as she made her way out the door. He turned around and let out a shaky breath as he started to unbutton his vest.

His unsteady hand slipped off one of the buttons but John was there to catch it, “you okay? We can leave…” John whispered to him.

“I’m fine… just a little… nervous.” Harold moved to finish removing his vest and tie.

The side of John’s mouth quirked up and he pressed a soft kiss to Harold’s cheek, “Don’t worry. I’ll be here the whole time.”

#

Harold came back into the room with a nurse after getting the MRI. “Okay, just wait here and the doctor should be in soon to see you in a bit,” the women smiled to them and made her way out of the room.

Harold made his way over and got himself up to sit on the exam table. John was finishing up a text to Root when he looked up to his partner, “everything go alright?”

“Hospitals still make me aggressively uneasy…” Harold chuckled, “and don’t even get me started on these gowns…” Harold looked down at himself and grimaced.

“I think you look… cute,” John giggled and winked to his partner.

Harold huffed and rolled his eyes, “please don’t.”

A smaller, older man in a white medical coat entered the room. “Mister…” He looked at Harold’s chart that was in his hand, “Wren?”

“Yes… please, call me Harold.” Harold nodded and shook the doctor’s hand when he offered it.

“Well Harold, I’ve looked over everything and I think you are a wonderful candidate for the surgery.” He smiled and sat down next to Harold on the table, “But as you know, this surgery is not a guarantee. The success rates have been miraculous, but I just want you to know that nothing is for certain.”

Harold nodded his head, “I understand.”

The doctor stood up, “do you mind if I look at a few things?” Harold nodded his head and let the doctor examine him. He looked at the scar on the back of Harold’s neck first, “What I’ll do is trace the line of the scar from your fusion surgery…” He moved back in front of Harold. “Turn your head as far as you can to the left.” Harold moved his neck as much as he could, “and to the right.” He turned his neck again. “Now look down… and up…”

Harold followed all the orders. “Right now, I’d say your neck mobility is about twenty percent. Being optimistic… if the surgery is a success… I’d say I can get you to seventy if not eighty percent. Not to mention the reduction of your chronic pain... it could even make your limp less pronounced.”

Harold’s brows raised. He was expecting an improvement… but he wasn’t expecting… _that_ much of an improvement.

“So, like I said earlier, we’ll go in right here…” He traced down Harold’s previous scar from his fusion surgery, “By what I understand, you have a cervical fusion of the C3, C4 and C5 vertebrae, a 2-level posterolateral fusion using bone grafts…”

Harold nodded his head yes. The doctor spent some more time explaining the procedure, the recovery, and the ultimate goal for Harold. After answering a few questions from both Harold and John, he shook both their hands, explained that they could set up a surgery date at the front desk, and made his way out the door.

John stood up and went over to stand in front of the older man, “freaking out?” He asked, his eyes soft and attentive.

“A little…” Harold admitted. “But I still want to do it.”

“Okay.” John smiled and helped Harold down from the exam table, “You sure? Cause if you…”

Harold interrupted him as he was putting his shirt back on, “John… I’m starting to think you’re the one who’s getting nervous…” He went over to the ex-op, “Don’t fret… I’ll be fine.” He pecked a soft kiss to John’s cheek and finished getting dressed.

They made their way out to the front desk to set a date for Harold’s surgery, “So Wednesday the 3rd. We’ll need you to get to the hospital at about nine in the morning. They’ll go over the routine with you when you get there. Remember not to eat 12 hours before…” She grabbed a piece of paper from behind the counter, “Here is a list of things you’ll need to know.”

The boys thanked her and made their way back to the hotel. Harold was relatively quiet during the ride. John didn’t really try to say anything to him, he knew he had a lot to digest.

Later that night, John took Harold down to the beach on the backside of the hotel. They were sitting on the sand, listening to the calming sounds of the ocean splashing against the shore.

“I must warn you… I was a bit of a bear after my surgeries last time…” Harold breathed out.

John chuckled, “those circumstances were a bit different…” He pulled Harold close and put his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, “I think I can handle anything you throw at me…”


	3. Chapter 3

“Morning…” A nurse walked into the room, “I’m going to start you on your IV and put these nice handy dandy socks on,” she smirked and held up the long, blood clot preventing socks.  
“Great,” Harold scoffed. He lifted out his arm for the nurse to stick a needle in, starting him on IV fluids.

“This is just something to relax you a bit.” She decompressed one of the syringes into the IV catheter, “they’ll be in soon to take you to the OR.”

Harold smiled and nodded, relaxing back down into the bed. He let out a breath, suddenly overwhelmed by all the tests and poking and prodding. This was really going to happen and he was suddenly scared to death.

John noticed his quick change in demeanor and moved over to his partner and grabbed his hand, “You’re going to do great, Harold…” John smiled, “don’t worry.”

Harold smiled to him in return, “Thank you, John…”

A few moments later, the anesthesiologist came into the room, “Well, time to go Mr. Wren…” He had a syringe with him, “time for the good stuff…” He wiggled the Propofol with a smirk, “ready?”

Harold let out a breath, “I suppose so…”

He looked to John who was making his way over to him, “You’re going to do great. It’s going to work and you’re going to feel better than you have in years.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Harold’s lips. “I’ll see you when you wake up.”

Harold smiled to him nervously, “Okay…”

John moved out of the way and let the doctor move in, injecting Harold with some form of anesthesia. “You’ll be really groggy in a few seconds…” The doctor chuckled. Two other nurses came in and moved Harold over onto another gurney.

The doctor was right. Harold was all but knocked out. John leaned down and pressed another soft kiss to his cheek before the nurses wheeled him out into the hallway. “Good luck…” He whispered. Harold smiled sleepily back and murmured something that John couldn’t quite make out.

John watched them wheel Harold through two double doors that read, _authorized personnel only._ After he stood there for a second, hoping and praying that he hadn’t just pushed Harold into something that may not be successful and possibly to make things even worse… he made his way to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee and call Root and Shaw to check in.

#

Harold woke up in a quiet large room. Someone was standing over him, trying to get him to wake up. He cracked open his eyes to see that it was his surgeon.

“Everything went well Harold…” He smiled, “You should be up and around by tomorrow morning.”

Harold smiled to the doctor and wanted to thank him but the insistent tug of the anesthesia still in his system quickly pulled him back into unconsciousness.

#

John walked into Harold’s room together with a nurse. The surgeon told him that everything very well and that he expected Harold to have a great chance of getting very close to having full mobility back… and he could possibly never lose a good night of sleep from his neck pain again…

John was slightly taken aback when he first saw Harold. His partner looked so fragile and exhausted. They had a drainage tube coming out from the back of his neck, IV’s coming out from his chest and arm and he was surrounded by large pieces of medical equipment.

Harold was groggy, but mostly awake so John made his way over to him, “Hey…” He grinned to his partner.

Harold’s eyes cracked open to look up to John, he had tears in his eyes.

“Harold?” John asked, confused. “Are you in pain?”

“No…” Harold whispered, “no… I’m not…”

That’s when it hit John… that’s why he had tears in his eyes. Because for the first time in six years… he could move without any pain.

John ran his hand through the older man’s hair, “the doctor said you did great… he said he expects you to have almost full neck mobility back and well… the pain’s already gone obviously…”

Harold looked into his partner’s eyes, his own wet and watery with tears, “Thank you, John. For talking me into it.” His eyes fluttered shut, the pain medication once again making it impossible for him to stay awake.

The nurse that was checking over everything smiled to John, “Today we let him rest. But tomorrow he’ll be starting therapy sessions.”

“So soon after surgery?” John asked her in disbelief.

“Yes…” she replied cheerily. “Once a patient starts being able to move their neck and doing things they haven’t been able to do in a long while, free of the intense pain they have had to deal with for however long in their lives… they tend to strive to recover as soon as they possibly can. And as long as they take it very slowly and carefully… their whole outlook on life miraculously changes and it’s…” She smiled even bigger, “Well… let’s just say it’s the best part of my job.”

“Thank you,” John nodded to her and sat down with a huge grin on his face in one of the chairs next to Harold’s bed and waited.

#

Harold awoke that afternoon when the surgeon came in to check on him. “Feeling alright Harold?” The doctor asked.

“Just fine…” Harold replied with a loopy smile.

“He likes the medicine,” John chuckled. He was enjoying his time with Harold being loaded up and care-free on all the medications. John loved to see Harold with his guard down and free of his inhibitions; it truly melted his heart in joy.

“Oh, I bet…” The surgeon chuckled as well, “Okay, squeeze my hands for me, Harold…” He grabbed onto Harold’s hands, “Good… now let’s take a look at your neck.” He had Harold sit up gently and took the bandage off the back of his neck. He looked it over and checked the drainage tube, “Everything looks great. Your post-op scans are very promising. As I’ve already told John, with physical therapy, I don’t see any reason why you can’t get back to close to 90% of what you were before the accident.”

“Thank you, doctor…” Harold replied, the news taking a while to fully digest.

“You’re welcome. Now I want you to rest for tonight and tomorrow these ladies will get you up and start on your therapy. Just minor stuff at the beginning… it’ll increase gradually of course as time goes on… I’ll see you tomorrow for rounds and I’ll stop in tomorrow night to see how you’re doing after therapy.” He shook Harold’s hand and then made his way out of the room.

#

The pain got worse overnight. Harold got a headache and his neck started to ache at about midnight. Causing him to stay awake all night, groaning and grumbling from the pain.

John stayed up with him of course, running his hand up his arm softly. He was trying to do anything to take Harold’s mind off the pain. He switched between reading from a few of the books Harold had brought, and telling Harold stories from his childhood.

Then he decided to tell him this, “It was February. It was late after I came back from wrapping up a number and leaving him tied up for Carter and Fusco.” John smirked, “It was snowing and I came back up to the library covered in it.”

Harold huffed, remembering just how many times John came back to the Library covered in snow or soaked with rain. He always felt horrible about it.

“You got up from the computer and walked over to me. You had that look on your face like I was a puppy who tracked mud into the house. But then… your expression changed into something more… concerned. You wiped the snow off my shoulders, took my coat and hat and hung them up…” John cleared his throat, “You smiled at me and put your hand on my shoulder… you said something like ‘You’re freezing Mr. Reese… Let me make you some coffee…’ and you ran your hand down my arm and that’s when I knew…”

Harold looked at him with watery eyes, “John…”

“That’s when I knew I loved you. The look in your eyes… I just…”

Harold stopped him by putting a hand to his mouth, “I offered you hot chocolate… not coffee…” Harold smirked, “we didn’t have any coffee; I hadn’t been to the store because we had three numbers in two days and the snowstorm made things much more complicated.”

John looked at him, brows raised and a grin from ear to ear, “how do you remember all that?”

Harold chuckled, “It’s when I knew too…”

#

Harold sat up with the help of two other nurses. One keeping his head and neck stabilized, and the other helping him swing his legs over the side of the bed.

He sat on the edge with his eyes closed for a moment, taking deep breaths in and out. Then he opened his eyes and looked at the two women in front of him.

“Well… try it. It won’t hurt anything…” One of the nurses stated, knowing exactly what Harold would want to do first. “But you have to go slow; the muscles in there are pretty angry at you right now…” She chuckled.

“Okay…” He breathed out. It just so turns out that John was sitting in a chair by the wall out of Harold’s line of sight. So, he gently started to turn his neck, moving it centimeters at a time. Once he got further than the tiny bit he was used to being able to move it with titanium screws and plates holding his vertebrae together, he choked out something that sounded like a sob.

“Keep going…” John encouraged him with a smile. Before he knew it, Harold was looking at him. More like Harold was smiling directly at him. From ear to ear. “There you go.” John acknowledged Harold’s emotional revelation lovingly.

He was like a little kid on Christmas morning. Yes, the incision site hurt and yes, he was sore… but he could move his neck farther than he’d been able to do in years and almost completely pain-free. He didn’t have the tingling in his hands anymore that he used to get. He didn’t feel like his shoulders were being pricked repeatedly by tiny needles.

He, John, and a nurse walked a couple of laps around the ICU wing. He still had a limp and always would have, but it was nothing compared to what it was before.

John let out a huge sigh of relief. Relaxing for the first time since they had arrived in the Sunshine state.

“Now… you did just have major surgery, so you still need to take it easy…” The nurse chuckled. “I know you feel the best you have in years and probably want to run around the building… but you have to go slow or you’ll hit a wall and undo all the good we’re able to accomplish and recovery won’t be easy.”

“Okay…” Harold breathed out, laying back in bed and pulling the blankets over himself.

“Dinner will be arriving in a few minutes…” The nurse said and made her way out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Harold and John decided to stay in Florida until Harold was all but completely recovered. He got to leave the hospital five days after the surgery and after everything had been explained and laid out for him to follow precisely. He was still on strict orders to take it easy and to not overstress his spine.

John caught him moving his neck from side to side whenever he thought no one was looking. One night, he noticed John was watching him do it, “Sorry… I know I’m not supposed to be doing it so much so soon… but I just…”

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” John laughed.

“Yes… Precisely,” Harold replied.

John went over and sat next to him on the couch, “it’s understandable. You’ve been restricted in your movement for so long… it’s only natural to feel a little awkward at first.”

“I want to thank you, John…” Harold gazed into John’s eyes lovingly and began, “if it weren’t for you…”

“Don’t mention it, Harold.” He pressed a soft kiss on the top of his partner’s head. “I’m just glad that you’re okay…” He pulled his partner in close, “but you are on strict orders to take it easy… so you better start or I’ll have to make you…” John giggled.

“Oh… I’d like to see you try…” Harold joked back, feeling like a completely new man.

**SIX MONTHS LATER...**

Harold put the undershirt over his head and he walked out into the living room. The room that John and Shaw had completely rearranged into some form of fighting ring… Now that he was all but completely healed and a new person… Harold had agreed to let them teach him self-defense.

Something he immediately regretted when he saw Root sitting in the corner with her phone ready to record whatever happened.

“Miss Groves put your phone away! This was not part of the deal…”

Root chuckled and put her phone back in her pocket, “fine… if you don’t want me to get you beating up John and Sam here on video… that’s fine by me.”

“Samaritan isn’t an issue anymore…” Harold groaned, “I really don’t see why I must do this…”

John tugged him out onto the mat, “That doesn’t mean you don’t need to learn how to defend yourself…” He smiled to his partner.

Shaw spoke up, “Worst comes to worst, you can always use it on John when he starts getting annoying like a lost puppy…” She teased.

“Well, I suppose you may have a point, Miss Shaw… shall we begin?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End


End file.
